


Real Things

by EuphoniousGlow



Category: Naruto
Genre: Drabbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-21
Updated: 2010-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-10 17:07:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/102091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EuphoniousGlow/pseuds/EuphoniousGlow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Naruto drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Death is a Lonely Business

It was a good thing Asuma had a sense of humor, because otherwise he would have gone stark-raving mad from boredom. Death, it turned out, was not very exciting. Occasionally someone he had gone to school with would show up and they'd exchange stories.

"What's it for you?" 

"Paper cut from the new Icha Icha volume." 

He had wanted to warn Kakashi about that, but the dead have both a lack of communication opportunities and a terrible social network. He just hoped the Copy Ninja wouldn't be too anxious to get the next Icha novel. 

Asuma was kind of starting to get used to being dead now. But there was still this horrible, gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach whenever he thought of what he had left behind. He would lie awake against the stone-colored trees, staring up at the stars, and think of the things he would miss. He'd never see whether he could finally beat Shikamaru at shougi, or whether Ino would realize that her infatuation with boys was less important than her friendship with Sakura. He wanted to see whether Kakashi would ever lose the haunted look in his eyes or if that Uzumaki kid would ever be Hokage. And most of all, he missed Kurenai, and the words he would never be able to tell her. 

He remembered the last time he had seen her. It had been raining, an insistent, driving downpour that roared in their eardrums. He'd held the umbrella over her head as they walked, but they were in no hurry. They hadn't bothered to speak, since they knew they wouldn't be heard. But it was just enough, being with each other, being close. It was always moments like these that they had shared, the little things they treasured. A quick lunch and arms brushing together, paperwork at three AM in the teacher's lounge, her showing up outside Chouji's hospital room with take-out and a smile. They had tried to be inconspicuous; anything more than platonic feelings between jounin was discouraged. 

They had stopped at her house now. Her strange red eyes, which he had grown to see as completely normal, were crinkled in amusement as he lingered a moment longer. Suddenly words were coming out of his mouth. She couldn't hear him over the sound of the downpour. "I... you."

"What?" she had yelled.

He opened the door for her. "Never mind." The next day, he was dead, and he never got to tell her he loved her.


	2. Something Different

When Kiba had invited Hinata to go with him (alone) to the annual springtime festival, he wasn't sure what to expect. But she'd just smiled and said she'd love to, and he was relieved for a little while. Now he was nervously fidgeting under the stern gaze of Hiashi Hyuuga, who, upon inviting him inside the house, rattled off about a million rules until Kiba finally told him that he wasn't going to hurt Hinata in any way. But he still got the impression that Hinata's father didn't like him.

Finally, the door to the entrance hall opened and Hinata stepped inside, smiling shyly. There was something different about her, Kiba thought. Then he noticed she was wearing lipstick. Kiba realized with embarrassment that he was staring at her mouth. He stared anyway. Hiashi frowned.

"What's wrong?" Hinata asked, noticing her friend's wide eyes and open mouth. She raised a hand to her mouth. "Is it too much? I-I thought I'd like to try something different..." Her words broke him from his trance, and Kiba ran a hand through his hair (which was sticking up in all directions) as he replied, "No way, you look great."

She blushed. He laughed nervously. Hiashi frowned even more.

"Well, Master Hyuuga, we're off!" Kiba said cheerfully, grabbing Hinata by the arm and hurrying out the door before Hiashi changed his mind. It was going to be some day, he thought happily.


	3. Strong as a Dragon

Her father wanted a son. Instead, he got Tenten, whose small frame seems too gentle for warfare. She is too pretty to be a ninja, he thinks. She will never last among the boys. But Tenten is not the girl her father, or anyone, expected her to be. 

When she is five her father gives her a kunai and sets up a target dummy for her. She misses the first few times, but eventually succeeds. She finds her tool. Weapons are her power, and she is their mistress. When she is fourteen she kills a man.

Tenten is like steel: sleek and strong and quick. She is also stubborn, with a goal she would die to achieve. Legends of the great Tsunade give her strength when she is sweating through a kata for the hundredth time. She is not delicate, as anyone who crosses her will soon realize. She may be the smallest of the girls, but her arms are densely muscled and her hands are calloused and scarred. And her eyes are fierce.

Her father jokes that she could dance on the wind, pure energy, a flitting leaf. But the leaf is the symbol of Konoha, of power and fire and strong roots running deep. She is a dragon, the symbol of her family and a beautiful, devestating creature.

Tenten is a kunoichi. She is strong and she will never give up, even as she is bleeding on a battlefield with enemy shinobi swarming around her, all alone.

She takes a deep breath, and lets her weapons fly.


	4. Stained Red

They called him a demon. An inhuman creature who killed without pity, whose hardened glare could shake the foundations of even the most stalwart. A shadow who would leave only pain and destruction behind. Some feared to speak his name, for it was too enmeshed with blood and death.

And as Zabuza lay with the bodies of Gato's thugs all around him, all he could see was the blood. His memories chose that moment, when he was deluded by pain and exhaustion, to surface. Standing alone in the schoolyard, the blood of his classmates on his hands. The cold, shocked face of a man he'd killed just for looking at him the wrong way. And the boy, kneeling in the midst of a circle of bodies, blood splattered like wine across his mask.

Maybe they were right, he thought. His hands were tainted with evil that no atonement could undo, and he knew there was no point in feeling regret. His only grief was that he had pulled the boy in as well. His life had been only screams and battle scars before he met the boy. And he had taken that innocent, gentle child who loved animals and exploited the hurt he found in those eyes.

Haku had been right. He was just as lost as the runaway he'd given a home when the rest of the world had cast him away.

Something cold landed on his face, and he realized it was snowing. Like the country back home, he thought, even if he'd left that land far behind. He looked to see the White Fang's son standing before him, and asked for a last favor. He was not afraid to die, but only hoped the boy would end up in a better place than he. Hell's fire was the proper place for a demon.

When Kakashi looked at the one whom everyone called a demon, he saw only a man.


End file.
